Sunlight filled the sky, pure scattered light; its hue ambitiously illuminating each crevice of the land. Sparrows chirped an explicit background melody. With breath paused in his lungs, he wished time would halt. The trees shone as if they were wearing golden crowns and the vast sea was not able to absorb the bright sparks of the sun. The tides on the sea were racing among each other to reach the horizon from where the mighty godlike sun appeared. And though time continued, the emotions that flowed stilled my soul.
The curtains add an orange glow to the morning light, every morning a perfect sunrise. It reminds the young man of the times he slept in a beach hut, watching the ocean emerge under the golden shimmer. For a moment his mind conjures the rhythmic waves, soft on the sandy shore and feels his heart beat to the same slow pace. He breaths in deeply. A new day has begun. He reaches his hand out to the fabric, noticing how up close the light pours through every open space between fibres, no different from how it once came through the beach-hut walls, illuminating like brilliant fire-flies each dawn. The material is warm beneath his fingers, and when the sun floods the room, painting the colours anew, he feels a little of those golden rays soak into his skin.
But he knew that he would not delay any longer and got up from his bed and soon dressed himself in the tight clothes that he wore for running. He knew that he was a good looking man and he could draw the attention of men and women alike. That kind of charm always came in handy when you always were caught up in a sticky position.
Jogging was the only time of the day when he felt like himself. In this small moor and village there was no other sort of entertainment as well for him since he was a pariah being a Billington. Even though he resented that, the position that he held just by birth came with certain benefits and he liked enjoying them thoroughly.
A good looking man in his early twenties entered the dining room of the mansion. Wearing a neat grey-suit, his features were striking and his eyes were almond shaped which gave him an air of authority. In fact when he had been born and was a healthy six months old everyone had commented that the child had been so beautiful that it could not possibly be the Lord’s son. When he grew up he resembled his mother more rather than his father and the Lord Billington was frankly relieved that he did not look like himself.
When it came to keeping your Earldom and power then it was always a good thing to have good looks on your side. Since Lord Billington had never had that he had to rely on brute force and that was and had been more than enough to keep everything under control.
“Good morning son,” greeted the Earl and Lancelot Edward Billington gave him a charming smile.
“A very good morning father. Indeed it is a bright day. How are you feeling today? Mrs. Berry was telling yesterday at supper that your arthritis has gotten worse and you were going to take your supper in the room itself?” asked Lancelot and the older man who more or less resembled a pig in the way he looked which accounted for the nick name of the Boar, nodded lightly.
“I will be better as soon as this damned oil deal is out of my way and I will be able to take some rest again. But I cannot believe that you are still caught up on your mother’s death. That women was like a thorn in my life and now that she is gone I can at least lead my life easily,” said the Lord and he did not even glance at Lancelot whose entire demeanour had shifted. He was absolutely seething with rage but he could not show that to his father. Just like he could not show it to him that he did not like woman and would never do so.
“She might be just a woman to you Father, but she was my mother and I can never forget that,” said Lancelot in a calm voice as he took a bite from the piece of the toast he took.
“It has been bloody six years Lancelot. And you very well know that we cannot delay this any further. You are of age and you have to marry in order to gain the earldom,” said the Boar in a loud voice and the veins of his neck were almost on the verge of popping.
“I already told you about that. I am not interested in the title and neither am I interested in the politics or earldom,” said Lancelot again and this time his voice was slightly louder than the previous time but he had this discussion countless times with his father and he was not fazed for a bit.
“I am not bloody well asking for your permission, Boy. I am telling you that this has to be done and it has to be done this year itself,” said Lord Billington and his fists came down on the table with a crash as he thundered.
“Why are you so hell bent upon making the life of a woman worse? Why are not considering the fact that it will cause more scandal than you want?” asked Lancelot as he placed back the knife with which he was applying the butter to the piece of bread on the plate.
“Why would there be a scandal? This will be the marriage of the year and I am going to make no mistake in choosing the right girl for you. The right one will know when to keep her trap shut and will come with the perfect connections,” said the Lord as he spoke in a lower voice this time.
“How can you even think about speaking about a girl like that I do not understand that Father!! You are the father of four daughters and still you speak about them like they are mere tools for reproduction and nothing more,” said Lancelot as he poured himself some cornflakes and got milk from the jug.
“What do you think they are good for? Huh? Tell me…all day they sit around the house and do nothing except fight like a pair of rabid cats and then go shopping spending my money and also do parties…heaven forbid that this country produces more daughters like that. Then everything is going to go for a ruin,” grunted the Boar.
“I cannot believe you father. I really, cannot. You have never seen Elizabeth working? Do you mean to say that? Today she runs her own book publishing company which was in ruins and shambles since you wanted no part with it…she has turned into a money maker and not to mention you get twenty-percent of her profit share even though she has left the house three years ago. You have not seen Penelope in four years and she is a doctor with a very successful practice in Canada. And do I need to remind you about the fact that she studied by earning her own way through college??” asked Lancelot.
He was the youngest brother of all and had been the apple of his father’s eye in childhood. He had loved the attention and the way he used to spoil him but then his mother had put a stop to it and taught him what was right and what was not. His sisters were all extremely capable in their own right but since they had been cursed with being born in this family with the name Billington they were no good in the eyes of their father except probably getting married off in the proper families.
“They knew what they were getting into when they said that they left home. Elizabeth ran away with her dowager money so I get a share in her profits that is only natural and Penelope is dead too me. She jilted her wedding the night before her wedding. What could be more shaming for this family?” asked his father as he narrowed his eyes at his son.
Lord Billington wished that his wife had died sooner, at least then he could have reared his son just like he wanted them to. Not like this.
“And what is your plan then? To never let me live my life the way I want? And to keep me inside a box like you have always done?” asked Lancelot with his voice tightening.
The Boar looked at him and his face was all red as he spoke in a low voice,” Keeping you in a box?”
“Don’t tell me that you don’t understand the meaning of what I am saying Father. I don’t like women, I never have and you are trying the hell lot of everything to get me married to one. None of the two women who came to our house to stay for a week, well none of them had any faults but you did not spare them either,” said Lancelot as the fork clattered from the Boar’s hand.
“Never again repeat that statement ever,” said his father.
“Why? Are you ashamed of the fact that your only son is not interested in women? Is gay?” asked Lancelot as he gritted his teeth.
“NNO SON OF MINE IS A FAGGOT. YOU HEAR ME??? YOU WILL GET MARRIED THIS YEAR AND YOU WILL PRODUCE A CHILD BY NEXT YEAR. THAT IS THE END OF DISCUSSION,” screamed the man as all the glasses and crystal-ware of the table chinked with the intensity of his voice.
“You cannot very well force me to do anything that I don’t want Father. You know that very well,” said Lancelot as he wiped his face with the napkin and then got up from the table.
“Don’t push me boy. Don’t push me…you think that you will say anything that you like and then I am going to believe you? No one in the Billington family has ever suffered from this affliction that you speak of.” said the older man and Lancelot smiled at his father.
“We are standing in the twenty-first century and yet you speak as if you are stuck back two-hundred years earlier. I am neither a faggot and nor do I suffer from any affliction. And I know this very well, Father, that despite your anger you cannot have me institutionalized or get me to be certified as insane just because I am gay. Because I am your only hope for this oil-deal to pass through,” said Lancelot as he started walking away from the room.
Mrs. Burberry, the housekeeper was standing at one corner of the room silent because that was her duty.
“Mrs. Berry, I am going out. Please save me some of the breakfast as I may have brunch later on when I come back,” said Lancelot as he walked away from the dining Hall.
The Boar, even though resented the fact that he could not control the proclivities of his son, could not argue that he was right. And if he had only a month then everything would be done within a month. He was not going to be scanadalised by a mere boy at the fag end of his career. And he was going to see to it that Lancelot did not either.
Nathan Frost’s POVPolice tape was strung across the entrance to the house on the corner, before Jane and I turned into the next quiet street so that to not alert the cops present on duty. We still had no idea who had been assigned the case and who had been the first one to be here on the scene. I was driving slowly pulling in next to the tape. As I alighted from the car, Jane followed my suit. I did not even bother to tell to stay in the car because she was never going to listen to me like always.The body had been hurriedly and hastily covered with a bed-sheet so that to not disturb any of the onlookers in case someone did slip inside. Slipping on my latex gloves, I pulled away the bed-sheet and sucked in a breathe sharply. It was not a pleasant sight at all.The woman on the floor was lifeless. Lifeless. Her auburn hair was scattered in multiple places, stained with dr
There was no ring or watch on the hand but there were tattoos on it. That was not the strangest part. It was a heavy hand which meant that it would take considerable amount of skill and strength in order to slice the hand in this way.“So it was just lying here in this way?” asked Susan as she looked at the hand still not convinced that this was all the part of one incident which had no head or tail whatsoever.“Yeah, fresh and warm meat like that with the scent of blood that would mean that rats would have been pretty quick to make a nice clean work of it,” replied the cop whose name Susan did not even bother to remember.“No nibbles here, as I can see,” said Susan and she turned towards Bill who had crouched down beside her as well and he said,” This means that it has not been here for that long.”&ldquo
Nathan pressed the numbers for Commander’s private line at the Yard and he was breathing out a sigh of relief when he realized that Commander himself had received the call. Jane was seated beside him while the call was happening in the car and she had heard every single word uttered by the man and she could tell that the older man was anything but livid.“Bloody hell Frost!!! What are you even saying?” he yelled at the phone and Nathan had to hold the phone at a distance.“Yes Commander! I am telling you the truth. There was no guard on the corpse, it was lying there while he was conducting a huddle. He desperately is in the need of attention towards himself in such manner that he is even ready to compromise the investigation for that,” said Nathan and Jane showed him a thumbs up. Even though she was itching to get back to the morgue and conduct the dissection on the corps
Lancelot bit his lip just a little as he watched the man in front, perfection in denim. He let his eyes rise to his shoulders, broad and inviting, his type. But this wasn't a day for distractions no matter how gorgeous. Pippa would already be waiting for him at the old Inn. The man was too perfect. His smile was soft with a hint of femininity, his strong bone structure was all male. Lancelot let his eyes linger for just a fraction longer than was customary, his usual "test." Sure enough the man gazed back, unguarded and calm.This was a small town where almost everyone knew every one. And even though Lancelot did not like the fact that he did not have any anonymity at all it did not probably hurt him that there was a considerable amount of prestige related with his name which he bore. Even though it did not bring him any pride at all.“Maria, please bring me my usual. I am in a really sour mood t
A young woman came in their direction and said,” I am Constable Velds. You can call me Carla.”Nathan’s reverie was broken at her voice and Jane smiled at the young woman. It seemed that she was a misfit in this particular station. Carla extracted a bunch of keys from inside the pocket. It was not dangling on her belt from where it could be snatched immediately. That was a very sensible thing to do and the young woman seemed a real gem, Nathan noticed that carefully and then he sent Jane a signal. When they were out of earshot of the Mustard covered Sergeant, Jane spoke to Constable Velds smiling at her.“I may need to interview you about the conditions here. Where is a good place to start that if I want to meet you and Mr. Frost wants me to do that? I think he would decide that he would like me to do that,” said Jane. She liked this girl on her first impression and that h
“I don’t understand why the Head of the History Department, at Cambridge said that he had to meet us in person and he could not tell this over call,” said Palmer when Susan looked at him and said,” he said that this was important and this was something vital which had the power to change the course of a few cases. And so he wanted to say this in person. He also said that he doubted that the phone was being tapped.”Bill made a motion of thinking and then he said,’ That man who found that serrated knife, the one who is working on the other case with you, some weird last name!!”“Yes! Nathan Frost. What about him?” asked Susan as she slid behind the wheels of her car.“He is the protégé of this man. Then why not say to him and talk to you?” asked Bill.“Good question but
Two years agoLancelot’s POVWhen I was in college I had made a few friends but one amongst them stuck out prolificly. His name was Sebastian Casey.We seemed to get along well, we laughed, made witty remarks, enjoyed some good films, and at times we went into deeper subjects of conversation. We hadn't known each other for long, but we sure did have a lot in common. It seemed like him and I would be good friends for a long time.However, there was something different about it, some kind of feeling. When we were together we had a sort of tension between each other, you could call it a sense of awkwardness. It became more and more apparent as we became closer to each other. When I was with him I didn't feel like he was one of my usual stupid buddies, he was special to me, we listened to each, we made each other smile, it was one of the, " I felt like I could tell
I've never seen a room with so much furniture and so many hues I'd never choose, nor a room I love so much. I've dedicated my purchases to clean lines, simple and mostly white; but these walls are all burnt orange and reds. The furniture is rustic and dark, sprinkled liberally with vibrant cushions. There is a table in easy reach of every seat and the walls are more photographs than paint. Every one is of a happy memory, a smiling child, a birthday, a new baby. There is lively Columbian music in the background and the scent of cilantro in the air. I want to sink into the couch and never move. It isn't just a house, it's a home; she's made it that way.“You really think that we needed to stop here before we started our tour to Bradburtshire?” asked Nathan as he called out to Jane who was in the bedroom closet packing her bags.“It is not only me who needs clothes and other stuff, Natha